


Ring of the Ancients

by mystiri1



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 21:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a mercenary isn't that different from being a SOLDIER, and somebody always needs a soldier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ring of the Ancients

**Author's Note:**

  * For [feikoi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feikoi/gifts).



> This was written for a prompt - FFVII/SGA crossover where Zack ends up taking Cloud through a stargate or quantum mirror when they escape the labs - so credit for the plotbunny goes to feikoi.

It didn't matter how many times he did it, Zack always thought it was a bit of a mind-fuck to step through a Ring on one planet, and step out of it on a completely different one. Although it was always better if the world you stepped out onto was peaceful, rather than a smoking ruin. Pelora was definitely peaceful, so much so that Zack had initally been uncertain of his welcome. But while they didn't need mercenaries, they did have plenty of jobs that required strength, and Zack had that in spades.  
  
Ihlaron looked up from the garden as Zack approached, and put his hands together in the traditional greeting: an upside-down triangle that looked rather odd when made around the handle of a shovel. “Welcome back, Zackary," he said cordially, and Zack gave a rueful smile. He'd made the mistake of telling Ihlaron his full name after the other man had commented that 'Zack' was so short, and the elder had used it ever since. He was certain Ihlaron knew how much it bothered him to be called by his full name – his mother had only called him 'Zackary' when he was in trouble – but he never said anything. He could take a little teasing from an old man, especially one who had given them so much help.  
  
He returned the greeting – breaking it off a little early to shove his pack back onto his shoulder before it slid off entirely. “Thanks, Ihlaron. How have things been here?”  
  
“Quiet as always. Your friend is doing well.”  
  
“Yeah?” Cloud had good days and bad days. The worst had been several worlds before this one, when they'd both been present for a Wraith attack. Zack wasn't sure how, but he'd swear Cloud had known they were coming, moving from his usual compliant daze to terrified hysteria. Others had thought the same, and they barely escaped when the inhabitants decided they had somehow colluded with the enemy. Pelora had heard the tale, and welcomed them with open arms.  
  
Zack just hoped that Cloud really could sense the Wraith, as unpleasant as that talent sounded. He'd seen Pelora's evacuation measures, but he still worried that one day he would return from a mission to find the world had been culled and Cloud was gone.  
  
There had been a few times since escaping the labs when he'd found himself thinking it would be easier if he was alone, and each time had left him feeling deeply ashamed. But worse would be knowing that Cloud had been taken by the Wraith. Zack had seen the aftermath of a Wraith attack, cleared away bodies that were too light, brittle and aged long before their time. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy, and certainly not on someone he'd once called friend. It wasn't Cloud's fault that he was more absent than not, even when he was physically present.  
  
“That trinket you brought back from your last trip – Well, perhaps you should see for yourself.”  
  
Zack blinked in confusion. He'd bought the 'trinket' in question at a local market because it reminded him of the puzzles Cloud had once enjoyed: a small box that looked like it was probably opened by sliding the right panels across in sequence. Zack had never been good at them himself, but he'd watch Cloud play with such things on numerous occasions, fingers nimbly twisting rings and twists of metal into new combinations while he continued talking as if it required no attention at all. Cloud had always preferred to figure things out in a hands-on manner, from sword moves to motorcycle engines, and even now, placing something in his hands at least got some response, even if it was just a slow curling of his fingers around it.  
  
He followed Ihlaron into the house, to see Cloud sitting in a chair, the puzzle-box in his hands. His fingers moved slowly, almost absently, over the panels, sliding them back and forth until they all lit up and the top popped open with a snick. A moment's pause, then he closed the lid of the box and slid the panels back in the opposite sequence.  
  
“Cloud?” Zack asked, his tone disbelieving. It had been nearly a year since they'd broken out of the labs, since Zack had stumbled through that weird mirror hidden in the deep in the Mount Nibel caves to find himself on a world that looked like his, but was totally different. No Nibelheim, no ShinRa, no Hojo – just a very small population and his first experience of travelling through the Ring of the Ancestors. And in all that time – apart from the hysteria during the Wraith attack – this was the strongest sign he'd seen that Cloud was still at home in there, somewhere.  
  
Cloud's hands stopped moving. Slowly, carefully, he held out the box to Zack.  
  
Zack hesitated, then took it. All the lit panels dulled immediately. He tried sliding them about, but they didn't budge so much as a fraction of an inch. “Uh, I don't think I can work it,” he admitted, and handed it back.  
  
Cloud accepted with only a brief hesitation, then his fingers started sliding glowing panels about once again.  
  
“I suspect your young friend has the blood of the Ancestors,” Ihlaron said quietly. “It has the look of one of their creations. And while we all call them Ancestors, the truth is few of us have any affinity for their works. Many of them seem to rely on some inherited trait, and after such a long time – well, the technology is truly ancient, so perhaps it is not so strange that their true descendants have all but disappeared.”  
  
Something in the back of Zack's mind twinged when Ihlaron mentioned ancient technology. It wasn't the same sense in which Ihlaron had used the word, but Hojo... Hojo had often spoken of the Ancients. And Zack knew that at least some of what he had done to Cloud involved genetic manipulation. It seemed like an impossible coincidence – _like finding a magical mirror that allows you to travel between universes stuck in the back of a cave?_ a small voice in Zack's head suggested – but if the Ancestors could build the Rings, there was no telling how far they might have travelled themselves.  
  
If they'd stayed on their own world, Zack would have taken Cloud to Aerith, who'd had a strange way with healing. She'd always kept plenty of secrets, even from him, but Zack thought he'd found the key to at least one of them in Hojo's ravings.  
  
“There are stories going around about the Lanteans,” Zack said slowly. “Not just about how they're fighting the Wraith,” which was the reason why he'd been paying attention to such tales, “but rumours that they are living in the City of the Ancestors.” Many such rumours were accompanied outrage that they were 'defiling' such a sacred place, but few people denied that the Lanteans could actually make the Ancestors' technology work. “If such a little thing – practically a toy – can help this much, what do you think an entire city would do?”  
  
Ihlaron shook his head. “If the Lanteans are truly living in the City, then I suspect they will be very wary of outsiders. I understand they have already encountered conflict with several other peoples, including the Genii, who think they have a greater right to the City of the Ancestors. You might find it difficult to secure their cooperation in this.”  
  
Zack shook his head, feeling more confident about the future than he had in a long time. From what he'd heard, the Lanteans were professional soldiers, something many worlds here had trouble understanding. They had that in common, along with their desire to actually _do_ something about the Wraith. And Zack had always been good at making friends. He just needed the right circumstances to meet them, and he was sure he could persuade them to let Cloud visit their city.  
  
Besides, it was said that one of the goods that they preferred to trade was medical care. Even the most paranoid of soldiers would not look at Cloud as he currently was and see a threat – but they would see somebody in need of care.  
  
“It might not work at all but if it doesn't, it won't be because we didn't try,” he said cheerfully. “I'll just have to be extremely persuasive.” He grinned, thinking of all the crazy things he'd talked Cloud into doing against his best judgement, once upon a time. He'd always been the more sensible of the two of them. Cloud would probably have more than a few things to say if Zack admitted that one of the things he missed the most was getting them both into trouble. “I'm told I'm good at that.”


End file.
